


Doctor Who Christmas One Shots

by heckingturtles



Category: Disney - All Media Types, Doctor Who, Peter Pan - Fandom
Genre: AU, Christmas, Fluff, Holidays, Multi, One Shot, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 18:14:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12823248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heckingturtles/pseuds/heckingturtles
Summary: Ok so every year I do the DW Secret Santa over on tumblr, and I wanted to collect all of the things I've written. So here they are.  The first one is the first fic I ever wrote, so be warned. Legit nothing has been edited since I first wrote it.Thus far, all of them are fluffy one-shots/AUs.





	1. A Doctor Carol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas Carol AU with Nine/Rose

Summery: Just before Christmas, the TARDIS breaks down, and the Doctor decides to put it before Rose, making her spend her Christmas without him. To try to make him change his ways, the Doctor is visited by three ‘spirits’ on Christmas Eve.  
Pairing: Nine x Rose  
Word Count: 2600  
—————————————————————————————  
A Doctor Carol  
“Come on, Doctor, the TARDIS can wait a day!”  
Rose stood near the console, arms crossed, popping out a hip. The Doctor had been working on the TARDIS ever since he took Rose back home days ago, only taking a break to pull out an old Christmas tree from regenerations ago. He had promised to spend Christmas with Rose’s family, but now he was rolled under the TARIS console, as he had been for days, his leather jacket flung over the railing. “Doctor,” Rose said, whining ever so slightly, “Mum and Mickey will be waiting, and you’ve been working the TARIS for so long…”  
Suddenly, the Doctor rolled out from under the console, causing Rose to jump back from where she was standing, almost running into the bare Christmas tree. Picking himself up, the Doctor marched over to the tool box he had left on the stairs and began rummaging through it, Rose hot on his heels.  
“It’s nothing fancy, just dinner with the family. Mum is cooking a turkey this year, just because she’s expecting you.”  
The Doctor continued to rummage through the tool box, pretending like he couldn’t hear her, as Rose continued to plead.  
“Doctor, just come to dinner, it’s nothing huge. I’m sure the TARDIS can manage on her own for a few days…”  
“Enough!” The Doctor barked. Rose jumped. He hardly ever yelled at her. Taking a deep breath, the Doctor continued. “Look, I’m not going to dinner. The TARDIS needs the work and I don’t want to spend that long with Jackie and Micky, I’m just not going to do it.” The Doctor put his hands on Rose’s shoulders, and Rose pushed them off. Tears threatened to spill down her face, but Rose fought them back.  
“Fine then!” Rose said bitterly. “A very merry Christmas to you then!” She turned on her heal and half marched and half ran out the door of the TARDIS, slamming it behind her. The Doctor winced at the loud sound. He finally found the tool he was looking for and sighed, he hated to be like that with Rose. He really did love her. He returned to his work, deciding to block everything else out as he slid back under the console.  
This entire situation could have been avoided, he thought, if this console hadn’t broken. In a fit of sheer anger, the Doctor punched the console above him, causing bolts to fall. He shielded his eyes, half screaming as the bolts fell. Why can’t I make anything work right? He asked himself, rolling out from underneath the console.  
He walked over to the bare Christmas tree and held his head in his hands, simultaneously frustrated and sad. A single tear rolled from his eye. He had messed everything up with Rose. He couldn’t fix the TARDIS. He was stupid. Crying silently, he pressed his palms against his forehead, forcing his eyes to look at his oil covered pants. He had screwed up. He had messed it all up. In his fit of desperation, the Doctor began to nod off, leaving his sleep tormented and restless.  
“Doctor? Doctor!”  
The doctor jumped up, hand on the pocket where he kept his sonic screwdriver. He was on edge, ready for an attack, whether it be from a murderous Dalek or old fears catching up to him. Looking around, he waited for someone to jump out from behind a door, completely and utterly ignoring the hologram shown in front of him.  
“Doctor! Over here!”  
Finally, he realized. Projected in front of him was Jackie Tyler or, at least, a hologram of her. She stood there like she would have, but every once in a while her image flickered.  
“Jackie? What are you doing there?” asked the Doctor, furrowing his brow.  
“You must know Charles Dicken’s A Christmas Carol?” asked the holographic Jackie.  
“Yeah, I met him!” said the Doctor, still confused as to why his TARDIS was projecting an image of Rose’s mother to him. He didn’t remember installing her face as a hologram option.  
“Well, you’ve mucked things up and I’m here to deal with it. I am the ghost of Rose’s past.” Jackie said very seriously. It took a lot of self-restraint for the Doctor not to start laughing then and there. Turning around to face the console, “Now how do I make this work?” she asked herself, beginning to press buttons.  
“Wait! No! The TARDIS needs fix-”  
Soon, the familiar whooshing sound of the TARDIS flying filled the air. The Doctor looked around, flabbergasted. He could have sworn that the TARDIS was broken and couldn’t fly, that’s why he was fixing it. After a few minutes of the blue time machine flying through time and space, the whooshing sound stopped and the TARDIS landed. This is when the Doctor started wondering why the TARDIS was taking him places, usually it was the other way around.  
“Alright then! Step on out!” Jackie said, putting her hands on her hips. The Doctor was very interested as to what was going on, so he ignored the fact that Jackie was flying his TARDIS and ordering him outside. Walking towards the door, the Doctor pushed the door to the TARDIS open with a creek, to reveal the scene outside. White flakes waved in the air during their descent to the ground. Feet of snow covered the ground, a swirling layer of frost covering everything else. Swing sets hung, frozen and unused, from their poles. Across from them were the monkey bars, brushed with a swirling layer of snowflakes, pointed daggers of ice hanging from the bars. Little kids ran about, throwing snowballs or rolling on the ground, making snow angels. The Doctor leaned down and picked up a fragment of ice to examine. He looked through the glassy piece of ice, critiquing every molecule. It was Saturday, December 24th, 1994. Christmas eve.  
The Doctor walked around, looking for whatever Jackie brought him here to see. Finally, he noticed it. A little Rose Tyler was standing where the sandbox was in the summer, building a snowman. An enormous smile on her face, she ran around giggling, adding more and more snow to each section of the snowman. The Doctor couldn’t help but grin at the little squishy cheeked child that was building that snowman. She looked so happy. There was a lack of carrots in the park, so Rose used a pinecone instead for it’s nose and two sticks for the arms. Finally, she wrapped her own scarf around the snowman’s neck, finishing the snowman’s outfit.  
He crossed his arm, grinning from ear to ear. Everything was so happy and joyful, but a little voice nagged at the back of his head that the spirits in the Christmas Carol always had a reason to bring someone back somewhere, and it was seldom a happy occurrence that Scrooge got to re-witness. Rose began adjusting the scarf when a couple of other kids, each about ten years old, started walking towards her.  
“Hey! Look! It’s little baby Rose making a snowman!” Rose tried to hide behind her snowy creation, but to no avail. They just continued their taunting. “You know who makes snowmen?”  
“Who?” teased another child.  
“Little babies, that’s who!” said the first kid. The entire group erupted in laughter, and Rose began to cry. “Know what we should do?”  
“What?” yelled someone from the back of the pack.  
“We should teach little baby Rose about making little baby snowmen.” The entire group smirked, closing in a circle around Rose and her snowman. Rose hugged her snowman for dear life, hoping that it would somehow save her. Tears streaming down her face, she closed her eyes, hoping that somehow she would wake up from this nightmare and be okay again. That was not the case. One of the kids that formed the circle around her stepped in, a malicious smirk on their face. They pushed Rose out of the circle. Wind knocked out of her, she landed hard on a frozen snowbank, cutting her cheek on a particularly sharp piece of ice.  
As soon as the little girl had left the circle, the older kids began their path of destruction. Fists and feet flew through the air, each blow making contact with the snowman in front of them. Each jab made Rose’s creation more and more structurally unsound. Before long, the snowman came crumbling down, becoming a mere pile of snow with a scarf in a matter of mere minutes. Rose ran as quickly as she could back home, sobbing the whole way. The tears stung the cut on her cheek, but Rose didn’t stop running, she couldn’t.  
The Doctor ran about, trying to stop the people wrecking her snowman, or to comfort Rose, but nothing worked. He was a spirit, passing through everything like a cloud of fog, without anyone noticing that he was even there. No matter how hard he tried, the Doctor couldn’t comfort Rose, nor could he stop what people were doing to her. Head spinning in a million directions and his heart aching like never before, he sat down beside what used to be Rose’s snowman and cried. His head was in his hands, and he right out sobbed. There was nothing he could do to help the person he loved most in the world  
“That was the last time she ever built a snowman,” the hologram of Jackie said, as if she wanted to worsen the state of complete anguish that the Doctor was in. Everything was silent for a few minutes. Even though he wasn’t truly there, the Doctor could feel the nip of the winter wind and small stab of ice crystals from the snowbank he sat in.  
“Well, I’d better get going, seeing as you have more guests coming over.”  
Suddenly, the Doctor was back in his TARDIS, leaned up against the console as if he had been sleeping. He leapt to his feet, checking the time immediately. Hours had passed. Then, he checked the TARDIS’s travel log. He hadn’t moved since he had arrived.  
“I was wondering when you’d wake up.”  
The Doctor whipped around to see Mickey leaning against one of the walls of the TARDIS.  
“What are you, the ghost of Christmas present?” the Doctor said, half sassy, as always, and half terrified.  
“What? No. Rose just said to come to tell you that she doesn’t need you and your fancy space travel anyways.” Mickey said, looking at the Doctor’s crazed expression and defensive stance. Cringing he said, “It looks like you might need a while to deal with whatever this here is so…” With that, Mickey half ran out the door, slamming it behind him.  
The Doctor ran after Mickey, making it to the door only seconds after it had been slammed shut. Grabbing at the handle, the Doctor tried to pull the door open, but at that moment, the TARDIS began flying again, inhibiting him from opening the door. He swore and banged his hands against the doors. Turning around, the Doctor went to open the door via the TARDIS override system, when he noticed a tall, skinny man in a brown suit leaning over the TARDIS console. The man flipped switches and pulled levers as if he had owned the TARDIS himself.  
“Well, who the hell are you then?” asked the Doctor, staring at the man who flew the TARDIS.  
“I’m you! Well, that’s not quite true. I will be you, eventually. Well, that’s not quite true either, I’ll be you pretty soon. But let’s not talk about that now, we have a Charles Dickens novel to recreate!”  
Soon the TARDIS landed, the Future Doctor gesturing for the Current Doctor to leave the TARDIS. When he stepped out the doors, he found himself in a fairytale forest, so green that it was unreal. Leaves blocked out the sun, leaving any light that passed through green, and branches curled upwards towards the sky. Right in front of the TARDIS was a chess table with two matching stools on either side.  
“Whats this for then?” asked the current Doctor, staring in bewilderment at the table and chair set up.  
“Well, I couldn’t quite be taking us across our own timeline, it’s bad enough that the TARDIS is tapping into our future image for this! We’re just going to have a good old fashion chat about how letting Rose spend this Christmas alone might be the worst decision we ever made.”  
The Current Doctor’s eyes widened as they both walked over to the table, each taking their seat.  
“So, I’m going to make this quick, because every minute we spend here is a minute we’re not spending with Rose, well, we do have a time machine, but still,” the Future Doctor rambled, before getting to his point. With a sigh, he continued. “We eventually lose Rose, and it breaks both of our hearts. You need to love her and cherish her while she’s here. This is the only Christmas you two get, well, I shouldn’t say that. I get one too, but that’s not really true either. Do you count cloning? I’m getting sidetracked, it’s all wibbly wobbly timey whimy. Anyways, the point is, don’t let Rose slip through your fingers. Love her while she’s here.” The Future Doctor stared at the past incarnation of himself, his hair wild and eyes full of pain. It was wiped away as soon as it appeared.  
“I had better let you get back to her, we’re wasting time!” He said, jumping up from his seat. “Alons-y!”  
The Doctor woke up, alone, leaning up against the wall of the TARDIS. He jumped up from his seated position, on edge, in case anyone else decided to appear and teach him a life lesson. After frantically looking around for a second, he remembered. This was a Christmas Carol. There only was three spirits, the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future. Jackie, Mickey and his future self. A stab of guilt pained in his gut. Rose was without him on Christmas.  
Without a second thought, the Doctor leapt out the door, not even bothering to lock it behind him. He sprinted through the streets of London, through the snow and around anything in his way. The Doctor had to make it to Rose Tyler’s house before it was too late. If he left her alone for Christmas, he would never forgive himself. Soon, he was outside her apartment building. Rushing to get his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket, the Doctor unlocked the front door to the building, flinging the door open. The harsh sound of shoes on concrete echoed through the stairwell, but the Doctor couldn’t care less. He just wanted to see Rose. Finally, he was outside Rose’s apartment. Taking a quick moment to catch his breath, the Doctor knocked on the door. It swung open.  
“Jackie!” the Doctor declared, hugging Jackie enthusiastically. “You’re not a hologram!”  
“What?” Jackie demanded, putting one hand on her hip.  
“Nevermind that, where’s Rose?”  
“I’m right here,” said a voice. She walked around the corner. It was Rose, it was really her. The Doctor walked through the doors and hugged Rose, picking her up off the ground. For the Doctor, it felt like he hadn’t seen her in millennia.  
“I will never, ever leave you alone on Christmas ever again,” he whispered into her ear, tears in his eyes. As quickly as his sadness had arrived, it left, and he became happy and festive again. He smiled and said, “So what are we all waiting around here for? It’s Christmas!”


	2. Christmas With The Daleks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eleven and Clara friendship stuff

Title - Christmas with the Daleks

Word Count - 2535

Prompt - Eleven and Clara friendship stuff

Clanking, quickly followed by a heavy thump, not unlike a metal pigeon trying and failing to fly, sounded from Clara’s living room. A childlike corner of her thinking hoped that it was somehow Santa Claus sliding down her chimney on Christmas Eve, as the time slots would match up, but she pushed it from her mind as she rolled out of bed. She expected to find something like a dazed squirrel that had somehow gotten itself stuck on the roof finding refuge down her chimney hiding among the ashes. Suddenly, she was very thankful that she hadn’t lit a fire that night, despite the chilly bite of winter nights.

Swinging her feet over the side of her bed, Clara winced at the cold floor and quickly slipped her feet into a pair of slippers. Then, she scuffed her way to the living room. She couldn’t tell if it was the light, or lack thereof, playing tricks on her eyes, or if there was actually movement within the room, so she braced herself. Due to the lack of possible weapons, Clara settled for clenched fists and a brave face as her only defence.

Slowly, she rounded the corner into the other room just to be met with a tall, gangly man, covered in soot with a now destroyed Santa Claus cap still sitting on his head. She flipped on the lights.

“Doctor?”

Looking up from whatever had caught his eye before, the soot-covered Doctor turned his head towards Clara, smiling like a child would have when finding presents beneath the tree.

“Clara! Happy Christmas!” he said, his eyes twinkling with excitement. Eyebrows furrowing and eyes squinting, Clara asked,

“Why are you covered in soot?”

“I decided to enter through the chimney, thought it might be festive. It seems messier than I remember…” he said, trailing off. Regaining his puppy-like demeanour, he continued, “No matter! It’s Christmas!”

“Not quite,” Clara laughed. “It’s still Christmas Eve. You’re a few hours early.”

“Still, better than last year when I arrived a week late.”

They both laughed, Clara walking over to the tree and pulling a festively wrapped gift out from underneath. In pristine, schoolteacher’s handwriting To: The Doctor was scrawled on a gift tag and attached. The Doctor did the same, taking a smaller box out from under his hat. With the gift in one hand, he nervously scratched his head, smiling somewhat sheepishly.

“Now, I’m not sure how you’re going to like this one, it wasn’t what I was originally planning on…”

“I’m sure it will be great,” Clara said, cutting him off and switching the presents in their hands. Smiling, she unwrapped the little box that she had been gifted, finally removing the top. Inside was a snowglobe of an orange city, full of tall buildings that seemed to poke the sky. Around the buildings was rocky and dust covered. When shook, the grey dust that rested on everything jumped into the air and floated slowly back down again. She looked down at it as if it was both the best gift she had ever received and as if she was holding the life of something in her hands.

“It’s amazing, thank you!” she said, reaching for a hug. Once the had broken apart again, Clara asked, “What’s this a snowglobe of?”

“Gallifrey,” he said as if remembering every good moment he had ever experienced. Clara smiled at it even more fondly now, shaking it to watch the dust fly.

“It wasn’t my first choice, but that didn’t go quite as planned. I was thinking of getting you something from this one bakery in 2337, they have the best baking of any era I know of…”

“What happened?”

Smiling sheepishly, the Doctor explained his story.

***

Earlier that night, the Doctor had been wandering around the TARDIS, pacing. Clara always did so much for him, it was only right that he get her a Christmas present to rival all others, and with the entire of space and time at his fingertips, he had so much to choose from. He could always plan her a vacation Iros, the gardens always are so beautiful. Of course, his last visit there didn’t go particularly well, and death is rarely a good Christmas gift. It was quickly ruled out, soon followed by the idea of going to see Shakespeare, meeting Plato, or buying her a plush Cyberman.

Lost in thought, he slid around the TARDIS’s controls in a swivel chair, spinning every so often. Companions were rarely this hard to shop for, he thought. One would think that with the whole extent of time, with every sale in every store that had ever taken place, that shopping would be easy, when really it was nothing short of overwhelming. Then it hit him. Leaping up from his swivel chair, the Doctor ran towards the controls and pulled levers until the familiar whoosh of the TARDIS taking off sounded throughout the machine.

Everything went according to plan until it didn’t. Long before he expected to land, frantic whooshing rang through the TARDIS, smoke erupted from the console and a frantic beeping started far away. Glancing up and around him, the Doctor braced for impact, expecting the worst. He was crashing. With a thump and a jolt, they hit the ground and the Doctor climbed out, coughing at the clouds of steam that shot out from the inside. Closing the door, he patted the TARDIS’s door frame as if that would somehow speed its healing process, then looked around to where he had landed. He was very far off from his destination of 2337, it looked like he had landed somewhere in the 1980’s, outside a small, rundown school. Cars were parked up and along the streets despite the late hour. The sky was dark and white snow speckled the ground. Watching his breath curl into cloud shapes, the Doctor made his way towards the door of the school, trying to look in and see what was going on.

The door was unlocked and a few meters inside the building itself was a large sign advertising a school production of A Christmas Carol. Knowing that the TARDIS would take a little while to repair itself, the Doctor walked into the building and wandered around before finding the auditorium. On his way in he had been handed a pamphlet detailing the start time and cast, and was soon escorted to a folding chair. Smiling, he flipped through. 6 pm was the designated start time and judging by the clock on the wall, it was nearly 6:10. Curious and never able to avoid the most interesting part of a situation, the Doctor put the pamphlet down on his chair and walked backstage. 

Most everything was in a high enough state of chaos that no one even noticed him enter. Props were strewn across the floor and a little boy rifled through a chest of boas and hats. The Doctor sensed that something was off, so he knelt down next to the child. His puppy-like smile stretched across his face, the Doctor began speaking.

“Hello. What’re you looking for?”

“It’s my cane!” said the little boy, not questioning why this strange man wearing both a Christmas sweater and a bowtie was talking to him. “I can’t find my cane!”

Cane. This boy must have been playing Tiny Tim. James was his name.

“Well, James do you remember where you last put it?” the Doctor asked. James looked back up at him, his circular glasses tilted on his face.

“No, I would have already looked there.”

“Yes, right. I think I might have a solution. Follow me.”

It may have just been a panic based decision, but James stood up and followed the strange man that had greeted him. He had no other options anyways. Running like a giraffe on the go, the Doctor ran out into the snow, towards the glowing TARDIS.

“Um, sir? That’s a phone booth,” said James. His sense coming back to him, the boy stayed a few feet away.

“A police box, actually,” the Doctor replied, fumbling with his key. Finally, it fit into the lock and beams of light seemed to fall out through the door, casting a golden glow on the snow. Eye wide with wonder, James tried to catch a peek of what was inside. Casually, the Doctor walked in and the clank of things being thrown against the floor sounded not long after. James looked in in awe. Cautiously, he followed the Doctor in.

Like every companion he had ever had, James was awestruck. How physics seemed to be destroyed in the presence of that machine was almost too much for the young child to handle. He just assumed he was dreaming. Meanwhile, the Doctor was throwing various things out of a wardrobe, each one hitting the floor with a clang.

“Aha!” The Doctor pulled an old cane out of the wardrobe. The handle was worn and it was older than either one of them appeared to be. “This one was used by the original Tiny Tim in the first productions of A Christmas Carol. I don’t have much use for it, so you should have it.”

James looked like he could have nearly burst with joy. It was unlikely that he actually knew the full extent of what he had just been given, but it was a cane and that was all he needed to perform the show.

“Thank you, mister. Thank you!” he shouted, running out the door of the TARDIS. The Doctor leant on the doorframe, watching the little boy go inside. Closing the doors, he walked over to the console and began to fly again, letting the TARDIS disappear out of the school yard and back into space. Now, it was time for him to get Clara’s present. 

After careful consideration, the Doctor decided that he would get her baking from the best bakery on earth at any time ever. The lines were always so long, so the Doctor chose the day on which it seemed to be the shortest, despite when it fell. Christmas Eve, 2337. Soon enough, the TARDIS landed. Jauntily, the Doctor hopped out and ran towards the bakery, Le Petit Noël, and got into the line. The streets were deserted and the line stretched out into the road.He was almost certain that it would be an hour before he made it into the bakery, but it was significantly better than their usual wait times. He struck up a conversation with the person in line in front of him. Naylaa was her name. She was planning on buying some baking for her little brother as he always loved things from that bakery. The time passed by quickly and before he knew it, the Doctor had a box of Christmas cookies in his hand, paid for and gift wrapped. Happily, he walked out of the bakery and back towards the TARDIS.

Suddenly, he heard a scream. It was Naylaa. Descending out of the sky was a pair of Daleks, seeming to be travelling alone. They hit the ground and began chasing after her, shrieking something about how they had wanted the baking, with a few “EXTERMINATE” thrown into the mix. Not letting go of the box of baking she had bought, Naylaa ran, her skirt swishing against her legs. Hearing the scream, the Doctor whipped around and ran towards it, holding his box of Christmas cookies in one hand and his sonic screwdriver in the other. Pointing the screwdriver at the Daleks, the Doctor shouted at them, taunting them, and using his sonic in any way possible. Recognising his voice, they slowed, their quest for Christmas cookies not as important as their will to kill him.

Soon, he had run past the Daleks and had caught up with Naylaa.

“Quickly, I need you to find a grate, preferably on this road,” he said, the both of them still running. “I’ll distract the Daleks, you use this to open the grate. Put this over top of it..” the Doctor took off his festive sweater, revealing the button up shirt beneath, “and wait for me. I’ll lead them in.”

Naylaa nodded, running off to a vent. She knew this city like the back of her hand, and the Doctor was thankful for that. He swerved off into an alleyway, beckoning the Daleks to follow him, and gullible as they were, they did. Sprinting through off streets, he waited until he heard the distant clanking of metal before making his way back to the main road. They shot at him, choruses of “EXTERMINATE” ringing in the air behind him. A shot was fired, landing on the box of Christmas cookies and burning them to a crisp. The Doctor was disappointed, but knew he had more important things to deal with, so he sped on. Soon, he broke out of the alleyways, the Daleks close behind him. Up ahead, he saw Naylaa repositioning the sweater over the grate. The Doctor gave her a thumbs up, and she stepped out of the way, hiding the sonic screwdriver behind her back.

Sprinting up the roads, he made his way to the grate and, with the Daleks behind him, he leapt over where he knew the hole was. It was too late for the Daleks to change course, so they fell into the hole, wrecking the Doctor’s sweater but trapping themselves. With both of the murderous aliens in the hole, Naylaa made her way towards the Doctor, handing him back his sonic.

“It is rather unfortunate your sweater and baking were both taken out by these…things,” said Naylaa comfortingly.

“Oh, it’s all right. There will always be more sweaters,” said the Doctor. “Now, what’s important is you get this,” he said pointing at Naylaa’s box of baking, “to your brother.”

She nodded, thanked him again, and headed home. Meanwhile, the Doctor held his sonic to the sky, summoning the intergalactic version of a dump truck to pick up the Daleks. Confident that everything was in good hands, he continued back to the TARDIS.

Everyone may have been safe, but he still had one problem: he still had no gift for Clara. Everything he had thrown to find a cane for James was still strewn across the floor. Stepping back towards the control, needing to think up another thing for Clara, he tripped, hitting the ground with a thump. No matter how many times he managed to fall onto the TARDIS floor, it was always just as uncomfortable as the first time. Standing up, he rubbed his head, trying to find what had tripped him. Underfoot was a small snowglobe of Gallifrey in all of its glory. Tall buildings touched the sky, little Gallifreyans walked along the ground, and sparkling dust rested on the ground. He had gotten it from a gift shop what seemed like forever ago, and the Doctor decided that that was the only thing he could have ever given Clara. Finally, the perfect gift.

***

At this point, Clara had made them both tea. The Doctor had finally finished his story and she had been shaking her snowglobe almost the entire time.

“This is amazing,” said Clara. “And you were right, this is the perfect gift. Baking is overrated.”

They both laughed, she pulled out some of her own Christmas baking, and they ate it and shook the globe until the sun rose on Christmas day.


	3. Second Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter Pan AU with Then/Rose

Title - Second Star

Word count - 1749

Pairing - Ten/Rose

Prompt - A Peter Pan AU (…) with Ten/Rose and plenty of romance

Rose lay on her bed, comfortably drowning in the duvet. The room was nearly completely silent and moonlight danced through the window. Floorboards creaked as the house settled and the faint ticking and chiming of big ben could be heard in the distance. London, though beautiful in all of it’s honking horns and old buildings, had begun to bore her. What was the point in being interested in a city that never repaid her interest? Routine mocked her. Every night was the same. Open the window, read a story, listen to her mother come home from her job, fall asleep to the last licks of candle flame.

Like all the others, the night of December 20th started with opening her window and then sinking into her mattress, book in hand. A breeze carried the smells of motor oil and cigarette smoke into her room. The smells danced around the bedposts and under the crack of the door until the entire room held the scent. Used to this, Rose continued to read, letting the words run across her eyes, as she occasionally brushed back a lock of stray hair.

Just as she was falling asleep, she heard a struggle at the window. Only barely conscious, Rose would have usually written something like this off as a dream, an image that would disappear at the first sight of daylight, but something about this seemed different. On her windowsill, desperately trying to open the window wide enough to fit through was a man, tall and lanky, with hair that poked up and dazzling eyes. Putting down her book, Rose watched the man fumble with the lock and finally roll down onto her window seat. Dusting himself off, the man stood up, and only then did Rose realise both how tall he was, and the near offensive amount of green that covered his body.

“Well, that should do,” he mumbled to himself as if he hadn’t noticed the awestruck girl on the bed. Looking up, he made eye contact with Rose and smiled like a little kid. “Oh, hello! Don’t worry, not breaking and entering. That’s not quite true, but I mean no harm. Only looking for a shadow.” He spoke in half sentences, emphasising strange words in an accent that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Each mannerism was mesmerising. It may have been true that he had broken into her house, somehow even though she lived on the second floor, but Rose wrote it off as a dream. What harm could a dream do?

“A…shadow, you said?”

“Yes, but not just any shadow. My own. It got away from me, nasty little thing, and now I must get it back.” As he spoke, he paced around the room, lifting up music boxes and leaning over to check under furniture.

“Aha!” he said sharply, diving to his stomach and reaching underneath the dresser. As he reached out, a dark silhouette leapt out and pranced across the walls, mocking its owner. Realising that he had been evaded, the man jumped to his feet and began to chase the running shadow around the room, knocking over books and candlesticks. Disobeying the laws of gravity, the shadow climbed up the walls and onto the roof, quickly followed by the mystery man. As they both flew, a strange yellow dust followed. Rose was sure that her mother was able to hear the commotion.

Finally, the shadow was caught by its foot. It clawed at its owner’s hands, trying to free itself once more, but the man held tightly, refusing to let it escape once more. Struggling, he tried to attach the shadow to his foot once more with little success. Rose giggled, causing the man to shoot her an annoyed and playful glance. After a few more moments of shadow-based struggle, the man let out a sigh, pulling a strange metal stick out of his boot. Shining with a blue light, it made a whirring sound and soon enough, the shadow had been reattached. The man stood up and looked at Rose. A moment passed before she broke the silence.

“Who are you? Considering that you broke into my house and all, I think I’m entitled to an answer.”

“Right. That’s fair,” he said sheepishly. “A lot of people know me by a couple different things. Pan, Peter, Peter Pan. But once someone called me the Doctor and I rather liked that.”

“So, the Doctor, then? That’s your name?”

“One of many, but yes. Call me the Doctor.”

Rose smiled. This ‘Doctor’ had looked rather proud in announcing his name. It was kind of adorable. He seemed to be about her age, maybe a little older judging by the weight that hid behind his eyes, and still dressed ridiculously.

“Well,” he said, that unplaceable accent slipping into his voice again. “I should probably get going. Fairies to see, pirates to fight, the like.”

“Fairies?” Rose asked, a childlike glint twinkling in her eye.

“Of course! It’s Neverland!”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen one before. A fairy I mean.” Her sentence trailed off.

“I could show you if you don’t mind that is,” he said, extending his hand.

It was unheard of and rather insane to run off with a man who had flown to the window and chased his shadow through the room, and yet something about the Doctor’s warm, but aged eyes had her walking towards him and taking his hand. Slowly, he lead her to the window, both hands in his. Abruptly, he stopped.

“Wait, have you ever flown before?”

“Can’t say that I have…” Rose said, sliding her hands nearly out of his.

“Right, we should deal with that first.” Dropping her hands, the Doctor leapt off of the window seat, a small shower of golden dust following his feet. Almost insticntively, Rose turned to face him as he jumped up onto her dresser like a nimble cat. She was sure that the little specks of gold dust that followed him everywhere would become another thing to sweep later, but it only faded into the light around it.

“First step to flight,” the Doctor started. “Is the mind.” He put a special emphasis on that word. Gesturing with his hands, he floated off the dresser. “It’s all there is to it. Think a very happy thought, and the rest with come later.”

“Anything?” asked Rose, crossing her arms.

“Anything,” he confirmed. He walked up to her and uncrossed her arms, taking them in a dance-like position. “For example, think of a ballroom, with dresses and food and the like. Think of the party and all of the fun people and warm lights.” He twirled her around the room, a hand on her hip, and she tried her best to imagine herself in a pastry-like dress, flouncing around the ballroom, lead by a competent partner. Rose never expected such a skilled dancer out of someone like the Doctor. He started to hum a waltz of some sort and, even though they were still firmly on the ground, it nearly felt like they were flying. Finally, she opened her eyes to see if her feeling had betrayed reality. They had, as when she looked down, she was exactly where she had started: the ground. With a huff, she stepped away from the dance.

“Doctor, it’s not working.” Furrowing his brow, the man seemed to be counting off things that he might have missed, even though only one thing had been demonstrated. After a second or two, he slapped his own face.

“Stupid, stupid. I forgot the most important part!” Slowly, he opened a small bag that was attached to his belt. Pulling it open, he revealed the golden dust inside. “It’s pixie dust, only the most important part about flying. Well, that’s not quite true. Maybe the second most important. Third at least. Now, hold still.”

With a childlike smile on his face, he took a handful of the pixie dust and sprinkled it on Rose’s head. The golden glitter floated down around her, twinkling in the light like little stars. She couldn’t help but smile, and he smiled back.

“Good as new! Now, think of a wonderful thought, any happy little thought.” Grinning hopefully, the Doctor held his hands behind his back as Rose closed her eyes and tried to imagine the fluffy dresses and bubble champagne of the party the Doctor had described only moments ago. It wouldn’t come. Desperately, she grabbed at the idea, trying to force it to visualise to no avail. Disappointed, she opened her eyes again.

“It won’t work. The happy thought won’t come.”

“Strange,” said the Doctor, looking almost confused. “I think I can help with that.”

Confidently, he walked over to Rose, tipped her chin up and kissed her. At first, Rose was shocked. Even if she was still trying to convince herself that this was all in her head, this was even scandalous for a dream. She was kissing a man that she had only just met when he broke into her house. Worst of all, that didn’t upset her. Pushing those thoughts away, she melted into the kiss, looping her arms around his neck. Smiling against her lips, the Doctor grabbed her hips, trying to shrink the gap in between them even more. An aura of magic danced off of him, sending jolts of twinkling energy coursing through her veins. Finally, they broke apart, resting their foreheads together.

“Look down,” he whispered. Rose lowered her eyes to the ground only to realise that the ground was several feet away and that they were closer to the roof than to the floor. “You did it,” laughed the Doctor. Rose soon followed suit. Soon, she had grabbed his hand and floated around the room like a feather on a breeze. After a few laps, they stepped onto the window seat.

“Are you ready to see Neverland?”

Rose nodded, not seeing how she could possibly have any other choice. Beaming, the Doctor opened the window and stepped out, floating on the cloud of golden dust that hung beneath his feet. Again, he held out his hand, and Rose took it without any hesitation. Stepping out the window, she took the support offered by the Doctor before she got her footing, and even afterwards, she kept hold of his hand. Both looked up to the stars above them, not remotely caring that people below them might see.

“Second star to the right, and straight on 'til morning,” the Doctor said, a hint of amusement in his voice. With that direction, they seemed to leap off of nothing, flying into the sky.


	4. Christmas and Squids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor takes Rose to spend Christmas Eve on an alien planet.

It was late Christmas Eve and the TARDIS was decorated for the season. Garlands hung from the railings, streamers wrapped the middle console in colour, and a bough of mistletoe hung above the door. With how rough riding in the TARDIS could be, Rose decided it must be some sort of Christmas miracle that the tree hadn’t fallen over yet. It’s lights rocked only slightly with the movements of the machine as if they were on the deck of a ship. The bobbles swayed in the same manner, but the star on top didn’t move, almost like it was anchoring the whole tree in place. A wreath hung on one of the walls, it’s large, sparkling bow twinkling in the Christmas tree lights. Strings of popcorn and cranberries twisted across the pillars around the TARDIS, connecting them like telephone wires. The entire room was a jarring mix of steampunk and mall-Santa-esc decorations, and it was festive as anything.

Carols sung through the TARDIS from no discernable source, joined by the jingling of the bells on Rose’s reindeer antlers. After a fair amount of convincing, the Doctor had even donned a fluffy Santa hat. She had lost the battle of trying to get him into a Christmas sweater, though, so the hat would have to do.

“Come on Doctor! Live a little!” Rose yelled over the music, dancing somewhat ridiculously to it. “You never did get around to showing me your ‘moves’.”

The Doctor smirked at Rose, walking over to her. The bobble on his hat swayed behind him as he moved towards her.

“Don’t they dance in the North?” she teased.

“I’ve told you,” he said grinning. “I’m nine hundred and some years old, I know how to dance.”

“Prove it.” Rose gestured out in front of her as if to signify that the floor was his. He wasn’t going to let her get out of it that easily, so he grabbed her hands and the two began to move. The ‘dance’ was mostly just stepping in time, swinging arms, and laughing. It was almost comparable to a clumsy jive. Occasionally, the Doctor would twirl Rose under his arm, then they would return to their rhythm.

“Is that all you’ve got?”

“Hey, you can’t really waltz to Jingle Bell Rock!” laughed the Doctor, somewhat defensively, but smiling nonetheless. He decided to step up his game a bit, moving into more elaborate spins, purposeful moves, and skilful footwork. By the end of the song, Rose was struggling to keep up as the Doctor lead her dancing around the room.

“Enough of a dancer for you yet?” he asked. Rose just smiled, not letting go.

Eventually, situations forced them to part as music was drowned out by the TARDIS’s whirring. The Doctor slowly let go of her hands and turned towards the console, pulling levers and flipping switches. Rose wasn’t entirely sure what most of the buttons did, but flying the TARDIS seemed to come as easily to the Doctor as breathing; she never got tired of watching him. He just seemed so in his element. Soon, the whooshing ceased. The Doctor looked up at her and dramatically announced,

“Welcome to Anagonia! Home of the singing squid!”

“The singing what?” asked Rose, desperately trying to swallow a giggle.

“You’ll see once we get there,” he promised, offering his hand to the girl. Rose smiled, taking it and letting him guide her to the door. Just as he was about to open the TARDIS doors, she stopped and pointed up.

“Mistletoe.”

Grinning, the Doctor cradled her cheek and placed his lips softly on hers. It was only a brief second, but the action filled them both with warmth. The Doctor pulled back, taking his hand off her cheek and using it to open the door.

Slowly, the pair stepped outside, their surroundings unignorable. The sky was a dark, regal purple like that on the velvet curtains belonging to a queen. Snow swirled gently down from the sky like tiny ballerinas as oceans of ice served as the ground. Each frozen slab was uncracked, but occasionally there would be an oblong hole. Through each of these holes came a strange singing noise that was comparable to opera, but was more watery, as if the creature making the sounds had bubbles in its throat. Long shadows swam by underfoot, twisting amongst themselves, unfurling their tentacles in order to propel themselves through the water. Occasionally, an orange head would be visible through the gap and that squid’s particular voice would be exhibited.

“Singing squids,” Rose said, half shocked and half impressed. The Doctor crossed his arms, a goofy smile plastered on his face. “How do they...” she began to ask, but as she turned towards the Doctor, she realised that he had a fairytale style basket in hand.

“Up for a picnic?”

“It’s freezing!”

“Oh, come on now, it’ll be fun,” he said, handing her the patchwork blanket. Huffing a little, Rose took it and marched to the nearest cut in the ice, unfolding and spreading the blanket. Readjusting her antlers, Rose sat down, the Doctor soon following suit. Quickly, he started unpacking the basket. Like the TARDIS, it was bigger on the inside. Somehow, inside of this small basket, The Doctor was able to fit a full baguette, a bottle of champagne with two flutes, a bunch of grapes, a round of cheese, and two Christmas crackers. At this point, she wasn’t even surprised, she just reached for a Christmas cracker, offering one end to the man across from her. He took it and, with a pop, they split it open. Glitter floated down out of it as the prize dropped significantly less gracefully. A pair of cheap cufflinks. They did the same to the other cracker to reveal a bouncy ball. Now covered in glitter, the Doctor poured the champagne.

“Do you ever get used to this?” asked Rose, staring up at the night sky. “How the whole universe is right there?”

“Not really. Even after all this time, I’m still amazed every time I see a new planet. It..”

“Never gets old?”

“It never gets old.”

For a moment, they sat there in silence, admiring the infinity above them. They were two mad people, with a time travelling box, and the entirety of space and time at their fingertips. In that moment, the universe was infinite, and they were infinite too.  
Rose looked over at her companion, big ears, silly smile and all. As far as she was concerned, he was perfect. The Doctor, noticing her staring, glanced at her. He saw galaxies in her plain, brown eyes, and brilliant stars in her bleach blonde hair. Her beauty drowned out even the loudest of the singing squids as no sound could possible match the revere that he had for her.

Suddenly, they had gotten very close. Close enough to feel the other’s frosted breath across their cheeks. The Doctor scanned Rose’s face as if he was trying to memorize a masterpiece. Rose, having different plans, looped her arms around his neck and pulled the timelord down to meet her lips. Unlike the last time they kissed, this wasn’t rushed. It was slow and loving. The Doctor’s hand fell to Rose’s hip as he returned the pressure of her lips against his. Gently, he laced his free hand into her hair, pulling her ever closer. Rose knelt up to meet him. He made a surprised sound that slowly drifted into a happy hum. Soon, the two parted their lips, allowing their tongues to dance. No one was really in control, it was just a perfect kind of symbiosis.

Once they broke apart, breathless, they met each other’s eyes again. Both of the Doctor’s hearts were filled with hope and happiness, but one thing above all.

“Rose Tyler, I...”

“I love you,” she interrupted. She felt like it was impossible to wait another second to deliver the news. Letting the words slip out of her mouth was both terrifying and perfect, and she no matter if she had tried to stop them, they wouldn’t be tied down. “I love you,” she repeated.

“I love you too,” replied the Doctor. “God, Rose, I love you so much.”

Leaning together, they rested their foreheads together, still breathing heavily. Something hung in between them, but not in a bad way. It was something powerful and loving that tied them together, lifting each party up, not weighing them down. Both of them felt tempted to repeat those three little words, but they understood two things. One, that there would be plenty of time in the future to repeat that sentiment, and two, that any explanation they needed was in the other’s eyes. So, instead, they just sat there, in the singing of the squids, a little cold, just gazing at each other. It was all they needed, the only and the best Christmas present either could ever ask for.

Slowly, the sun began to rise behind them, casting the planet into a golden glow. Looking towards the sunrise, the two picked up and clinked their glasses.

“Merry Christmas, Rose Tyler.”

“Merry Christmas.”


End file.
